


I don't Care

by mustbeginandendwithaletterornumber



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drunk Derek, Gen, Lonliness, Man Pain, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustbeginandendwithaletterornumber/pseuds/mustbeginandendwithaletterornumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek get's drunk alone one night.<br/>He sings a bit.<br/>And man pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't Care

Fuck this. I chug down the last of my beer and toss the empty bottle into the corner. It smashes against the floor, shattering into a thousand useless pieces. I’ll have to clean that up later a smirk hits my face. The thought of doing something so menial, of giving more than one shit about anything is just laughable. Like hell I’ll clean it up. Maybe I’ll force Peter to do it, and if he says no I’ll shove him into the shards. Cut up his smug face, that’ll teach him.

I turn back to the table and grab another beer, this time in a can. I pop the thing open and take a swig. Ice cold.  It trickles down my throat, and leaves one hell of an after burn. The kind that reaches your stomach leaving you with a warm feeling that grows and grows, until your vision is blurred and you’re having too much fun.

God I need to have fun.

I can’t even remember the last time I just let loose. Maybe a few years ago. Ever since Laura and I were on the run, life was panicky. She coped. Had fun, learned to juggle everything. Of course. Big reliable sister; the smart one. Too smart for her own good. That thought stung, so I gulp down more beer. I clubbed a bit when I was twenty, but it was never really fun. Only to make her happy. She needed to think I was alright.

The can was easy enough to crush, and it flies pretty well; landing in the pile of glass. I turn my attention back to the table. Beer bottles, cans and a wine box. So much alcohol; it looks like a frat party. Party of one. On the table is my radio, battered old thing, and I flick it on. Instantly it’s tuned into an old rock and roll station. God this was the good shit. An AC/DC song blares out, one of the classics.

I smile at the memories of a club we visited a few years back. It had one of those themed nights, styled around the eighties. There was this girl, great looking thing. She was dancing so hard, and this song came on.

“She was the best damn woman I had ever seen,” I mumble along to the song.

Twenty one at the time; damn, wasn’t all that long ago. I remember getting drunk that night, and just dancing so hard with her grinding up against me. Her body was great, shapely, curves in all the right places. But her legs. Running my hand up those was something most guys would kill to do.

“Knockin' me out with those American thighs.”

I nod my head to the beat and pick up another can. One drag later and my legs are starting to move. Finally I’m free, just dancing away. I pump out to the beat, already loosing myself to the music and malty drink my hand.

“Cause the walls start shaking, the earth was quaking, my mind was aching.” 

Beer spits from the can as I shake my hand harder, really getting into it. I’m grinning hard, letting the music build inside me as it reaches the chorus. I just scream out the lyrics, not giving a damn anymore.

“Shook me all night long, yeah you shook me all night long!” 

 Fuck anyone who hears. I’m on top of the world.


End file.
